


Hallow's Gambit

by King0fTheFall



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Chess, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Inspired by The Queen's Gambit, Muggle AU, Mystery, Romance, jily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/King0fTheFall/pseuds/King0fTheFall
Summary: She was a chess protege who remained unbeatable for years, but after her first defeat, she fell into a spiral. Months after her traumatizing loss, Hermione Granger remained despondent and closed off, unable to play the game which was once her whole life. However, an unlikely meeting with a stranger who also loved the game changed everything.Inspired by The Queen’s Gambit, Muggle AU
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 17
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was a fun little idea that popped into my mind while watching The Queen's Gambit. And the MC's last name is literally "Harmon" so, of course, I thought of Harmony!
> 
> Many thanks to Ari and Hasty for their help with the cover.
> 
> A big thank you to the goat, Untold Harmony, for reading over this! 💙

Six years.

That's how long it's been since Hermione started competing. That was how long she had been undefeated. That was how long since she had started feeling truly confident.

Throughout her school years, she had been bullied and harassed about her hair, or her teeth, or for the fact that she was _smart_. Her parents had told her it was their way of covering up how jealous they were of her. Even so, she was never satisfied by their reassurances.

She was fourteen when she learned the rules of chess from her father. She was fascinated with the checkered pattern of the eight-by-eight grid and soon enough she became obsessed. It had gotten to the point where she was able to visualize the chessboard in her mind, which allowed her to rapidly improve at the game.

One of her few friends in school suggested she compete, and although skeptical, the prize money was undoubtedly alluring. One thing led to another and by the age of sixteen, she began competing in almost every tournament she could find, making quite the name for herself.

Hermione Granger, an arising chess prodigy. That's what they called her. Oxfordshire's Chess Champion of 2014, 2015, and 2016. She racked up more victories than anyone her age but the most renowned was winning the European Individual Championship of 2018 in Skopje.

She defeated professionals who had been competing since she was in diapers and the praise and admiration she received all felt _good_. _Really good_ , in fact.

She felt strong, powerful, and everything else of the like. Playing and _winning_ were invigorating. The thrill of competing helped her break out of a proverbial shell and smile freely for the first time. Chess was her method of expression, and while unorthodox, it got the job done.

But now, all of that was irrelevant.

She could still see the apathetic look on her opponent's face in the Aeroflot Open of 2019 as he played the finishing move against her. His face haunted her dreams and that moment changed her life as she knew it.

With that one loss, her life went down the drain and she had fallen into a losing spiral.

Opponents she'd mop the floor with on any given day of the week were now defeating her like she didn't know the rules of the game. It _infuriated_ her, almost to the point where she wanted to quit—

_HONK!_

Hermione's soul nearly jumped out of her skin at the loud, invasive noise. She snapped back to reality and realized she had been standing at a crosswalk.

"You crossing or not, lady?" The gruff voice of a driver startled her. "I haven't got all day!"

"Sorry!" She squeaked as she hurriedly made her way over to the next block.

The thoughts of her life up to this point went through her mind every day. Her life was unique, and for that, she felt truly grateful. Growing up, one of her biggest fears was being ordinary and forgotten. But with her chess career, that was a thing of the past, despite the conundrum she currently found herself in.

She navigated through the bustling streets of Piccadilly and glanced up when she arrived at her destination. Waterstones, London's biggest bookshop. This was her sanctuary. Her father had brought her here every so often as a child to pick out a book for the week. She smiled at the memory.

Hermione browsed the shelves to pass the time when a magazine caught her eye. The white and red title of _Chess Life_ magazine was much too familiar. She had, after all, been in it several times.

She pursed her lips when she saw the cover. It was a picture of a man adorning an unsettling plain white mask with no human features save for holes where his eyes would be. He even had a black hoodie that concealed his hair. However, his one distinguishable feature were his cold green eyes. Hermione shuddered as she took them in, understanding why people found him unnerving.

This was Hallow, the alias of the undefeated World Chess Champion and Grandmaster. Hermione glossed over his appearance, or lack thereof, and scoffed. _Who dresses like that to play chess?_ She thought.

She flipped to the page where the article discussed him when she was interrupted.

"Ma'am, if you'd like to read that, you're going to have to buy it," came the nasally voice of the clerk.

She snapped it shut and walked towards the counter. Plucking a random book from the shelf, she placed it and the magazine in front of the clerk and asked to be rung up.

"Have a nice day," the clerk said but was met with a wordless turn of her back. Hermione walked briskly and was out of the door before the clerk could close his mouth.

The brown paper bag with Hermione's purchase felt much heavier than it should have. She didn't know why she bought the magazine but her curiosity was eating at her. She had, of course, heard of Hallow before. Not a day went by that his name wasn't mentioned in any chess tournament setting. He was their idol and some eccentrics even revered him as a deity of sorts.

Yet no one knew a thing about him, not even his age.

To say that Hallow was an amazing chess player would be an insult. Hermione studied his matches and was amazed at his patterns—they were never consistent, yet he managed to defeat all of his opponents in the least amount of moves imaginable. His skills were unparalleled.

 _Why are you hiding?_ She wondered. If someone else was in his position, she was sure they'd leap at the chance to exercise the benefits of their fame.

It was all rather peculiar.

◆ ◆ ◆

"Come on, Hermione, you haven't left your house in weeks. Live a little," Ron begged, whining like a lost child.

Hermione was seriously regretting answering his call now. This was the third day in a row that he had called, wanting her to accompany him on a double date.

"Ron, from all the years you've known me, do you honestly think a bar is my scene?"

"Well, of course not. That's why I'm asking you to live a little," he answered. She could practically hear the annoying smirk that was on his face. "Besides, Luna tells me that her friend seemed interested."

"Interested in me? The bloke's never even met me," Hermione said incredulously.

"Isn't that kind of exciting, though? Have you ever been on a blind date before?"

"Well, no—"

"There you go! Give your books a break; I'm sure they're tired of being glared at all day," he joked, chuckling to himself.

"Haha, very funny," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "And when would this hypothetical date take place?"

"Tomorrow. I can pick you up and we'll meet them there," he replied nonchalantly, but she knew he was riding on her response.

Hermione rubbed her temples and released a defeated sigh. "All right. I'll humor you."

"Brilliant! See you at eight!" He hollered and promptly hung up the phone.

The bushy haired girl let out a sigh and pocketed her cellphone, wondering why she was friends with that idiot. But then a small smile crossed her face.

Someone was interested in her.

◆ ◆ ◆

Hermione traced the rim of her cup as an ugly feeling settled in her stomach. She watched as Ron and his girlfriend, Luna Lovegood, exchanged a kiss and laughed over drinks and the feeling worsened. Her depression must have been radiating because Luna looked over to her and the smile fell off her face.

"I'm so sorry about him, Hermione. He's usually never late to anything."

Hermione tried for a smile. "It's fine."

She regretted accepting Ron's proposal, wishing she was curled up in her blankets, reading or watching television instead. Of course, it would be her luck that she'd get stood up. When another few minutes went by, she wondered if it would be rude if she left.

"Sorry, I'm late!"

Hermione's head snapped up when a new voice entered the fray.

The man in front of her was quite handsome, much more than she was anticipating. He had a tousled crown of medium-length black hair and intense, captivating emerald eyes behind circular glasses. A light stubble coated his face, tracing his jaw, which gave him a sort of rugged appearance. She liked it. He didn't try too hard to impress, giving her the impression that he was the type who kept to himself.

"Harry!" Luna exclaimed, giving the man a brief hug. She pulled back and promptly slapped his chest. "Where have you been, you idiot?! You've kept poor Hermione waiting!"

"I'm so sorry, Hermione. I got held up in traffic and there was this old lady—"

Hermione let out a small laugh and waved him off. "It's fine, really. We haven't been waiting long."

"Okay, okay—that's good," Harry let out a breath before looking directly into her eyes. "Hi, my name's Harry."

He held out his hand to her and she shook it, smiling.

"I'm Hermione Granger, pleased to meet you."

He grinned at her. "Likewise."

"It's nice to meet you too, Ron. I've heard a lot about you," Harry said, shaking the ginger's hand.

Ron laughed. "All good things, I hope."

"That accent," Hermione pointed out. "You're American?"

"I am," he confirmed, chuckling slightly. "Hopefully that's not an issue."

As the night progressed, Hermione observed how Harry was quiet and well mannered on the surface, but her years of playing chess had taught her more than just strategy. She had become quite good at reading people after playing so many different people. Their mannerisms, nervous quirks, their cockiness, and overconfidence, the panic—all of it was as clear as day to her.

Harry was twenty-six years old and a perfect gentleman. He didn't laugh too loudly and usually wasn't very expressive, preferring to remain reserved. But he was very charming; his words were always precise, as if practiced, yet always coming off natural.

Hermione smiled to herself. She'd have to do a bit of _research_ to find out more about him.

Ron took another swig of his drink when a thought crossed his mind. "So, Harry, how come I've never met you? Luna and I have been dating for a few months now."

"Oh, I travel a lot for my job. I haven't been in London for… two years?" He questioned, looking at Luna.

"Yup," Luna confirmed with a stern expression. "Two years too long, mister. I miss having my best friend around."

Harry let out a nervous chuckle. "Ah, you know how it is—I can never stay in one place for too long."

"Speaking of that," Hermione interjected. "How long will you be staying in London for?"

"Probably this entire year, give or take. I'm staying with my uncle."

After their third round of drinks, Ron got up and gathered their glasses.

"I'll go get us another round—"

Luna grabbed his shoulder and sat him back down. "I think you've had quite enough, dear. But it's still early, you lot up for tea at my house?"

So that's where they went.

The four of them sat around Luna's den chatting when a glint of light caught Hermione's eye. She got up and walked over to the shelf where the incriminating object lay.

It was a chess set.

The black and white pieces were made of frosted and clear glass, glimmering from the light. The traditionally styled pieces on the alternating glass squares were meticulously detailed; their shiny, matte finish and simple beauty were timelessly elegant.

Hermione picked up the white queen and was admiring it when Ron belted out, "You know, Harry, Hermione here is a chess _wiz_ ," he bragged.

"Ron—"

Ron paid her protests no mind and continued, "She's been in loads of tournaments from when we were still in school. And she's won most of them!"

"Oh, really?" Harry asked, impressed.

A smile crossed his features as he gazed at her with an appraising look. Hermione flushed and let out a nervous laugh.

"I'm not that good—" She tried to say but was once again interrupted.

"Nonsense! You've even beaten me," Ron said proudly, causing Luna and Hermione to roll their eyes in amusement. "Why don't you two play right now?"

"I'm game," Harry said and leaned back into the couch, looking at Hermione for her answer.

"Well, if you're up for it… do you know how to play chess, Harry?"

Harry's lips twitched and he risked a glance at Luna who was trying hard not to laugh. "I know a thing or two. My godfather taught me when I was younger."

"Okay, let's play," Hermione acquiesced. "Are you sure it's alright, Luna? This set looks to be a decorative and quite expensive—"

Luna waved off her concerns. "Oh please, it was a gift and my father never touches that thing. By all means, have at it."

Harry shot her a secretive, knowing smirk, which she returned, before clearing the table. Hermione took the piece and quickly set up her half of the board while Harry did the same. She played white and looked at him once before opening with the Sicilian Defense.

"I normally play with a clock and track sheet," Hermione said, offhandedly.

Harry smirked. "That's what you pros do, right?"

"How did you know?"

"I do my research," Harry told her before making his own move. But at her distrustful expression, Harry continued. "Luna asked Ron and she told me."

They went back and forth, moving each piece with equal precision. It was like a dance; there was little hesitation between each of their moves. _Harry is better than he lets on,_ Hermione thought as she made her next move.

Harry had a soft smile on his face which did not go unnoticed by Luna. This was the most fun he had playing chess in years. And Hermione was certainly quite the challenge.

He deliberately spent longer on each move, giving off the impression that he was thinking about what to do. He studied her moves and play style carefully and slid his pawn across the board while she made her next move with hardly any time spent. The game lasted for nearly twenty minutes as one move led to a series of the next.

They had entered the cusp of the match as Luna and Ron watched on with vivid fascination—for similar reasons. Neither had seen their friend happy with the game for quite some time.

Hermione scrunched her eyebrows together when she realized that Harry would come close to checking her in the next couple of moves. It was certainly a grounding revelation but she smirked when she noticed an opening in his setup. As good as he was, he was no match for a seasoned professional.

She moved her knight and looked up at him, noticing that his eyes were on her and not the board in front of him. Harry smiled at her and moved his bishop to C3. Hermione clicked her tongue, expecting his move, and moved her queen three spaces to the left, resulting in a checkmate.

"Good match, Harry!" She praised, shaking his hand. "Forty turns! That's quite impressive."

"Thank you," he laughed, running a hand through his hair and gazing at the board. "I was no match for you, though."

Hermione laughed freely. "Maybe next time."

"I'll have to keep trying until I beat you," Harry said, leaning back into his chair and smiling at her.

◆ ◆ ◆

Since the blind date, Harry and Hermione had been texting nonstop and hanging out every few days. More often than not, they ended up playing chess somewhere—the library, a park, a café, or anywhere that would allow them to set up a board.

On this particular day, they were at Hermione's loft.

"So tell me, what made you go through this… slump?" Harry asked one day while propped up on her kitchen island.

Hermione stiffened but then put on a mask of indifference. "What do you mean?"

She worked more vigorously dicing her carrots when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Deflecting won't work with me, Hermione. Tell me about the match," Harry said, squeezing her shoulder softly, which made her turn to look at him.

Hermione stared into his eyes, feeling her pride wane from the deep pools of green. She felt herself slowly begin to unfurl. There was something about him that made her want to confide in him. It was almost scary.

They moved to the couch and sat beside each other quietly. Harry was patiently waiting for her to be ready which made her smile a little.

She hadn't told anyone of her feelings about the match, not even her parents. But, surprisingly, she found herself trusting Harry. In fact, she _really_ trusted him. He was so calm and understanding of everything so she allowed herself to take a leap of faith and open up.

"The match was… insane. I wanted to hammer his weaknesses. I wanted to show that smug son of a bitch that I could beat him, even though I wasn't playing the way he thought I should."

"What do you mean 'the way he thought I should?'" Harry questioned.

Hermione let out a mirthless laugh. "After the match, he complained about how long it took, and then—get this—he told me about my 'most crucial mistakes' and how the match could've gone differently."

Harry chuckled to himself but immediately stopped and raised his hands in surrender when she cast a pointed glare in his direction. He now knew exactly who she was talking about.

Hermione stood up and fetched her chess set, mimicking the moves as she recalled the dreaded match.

"He took my center pawn and forced an exchange of queens. I couldn't believe it. But then I saw what it meant. With the pawn gone, I was open to a rook-bishop mate because of the bishop on the open diagonal."

She glanced up at Harry momentarily and saw that he was focused intently on the chess board so she continued.

"I could protect my retreating knight by moving one of the rooks over, but the protection wouldn't last because of his stupid, innocent looking knight would block my king's escape," Hermione said, knocking her king piece down and releasing a breath.

Then her tone became soft. "The more I looked, the worse it all became and it completely caught me completely off guard. It was brutal… it's the kind of thing I did to other people."

"I thought I could trade my way out of it if he attacked too fast, but… he was careful. I had to retreat but he kept coming. I wanted to _scream_ , Harry!" She exclaimed.

"Hermione—" Harry tried to say.

"Sorry, I got too technical there," Hermione said sheepishly.

Harry, who knew exactly what she was talking about, laughed slightly, trying to play it off. "No worries, I understood some of that."

"I haven't lost in six years, Harry," she sighed, rubbing her temples. "And to be so utterly humiliated… it destroyed me—my confidence, my _skill_. I didn't think I'd be washed up this fast…"

Harry moved closer to her, sitting across from her, and placed a hand atop hers. "You're not washed up, Hermione."

"He beat me so fast, Harry. I didn't—couldn't predict his moves at all. I was completely blindsided!"

"One loss doesn't define you. You hear me?"

Hermione, aggravated, crossed her arms and buried herself further into her couch. Harry smothered a smile at the sight and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"Everyone has their ups and downs, Hermione. But if you give up, then all that work you did to get to this point is moot," Harry told her. "You just have to get that mojo back, and you'll be back on top before you know it."

She smiled a little and leaned further into his embrace; the tension immediately began to leave from her shoulders and neck. Harry's words were wise, but the self-doubt still overpowered her.

"Besides," he started confidently, peering down at her. "The Hermione Granger I've come to know isn't a quitter."

◆ ◆ ◆

"So do you fancy losing or something?" Hermione asked, smirking as she gazed at him with her chin propped on top of her interlocked fingers.

Harry reeled back, jokingly incredulous. " _What_? On the contrary, I've never lost any tournament that I've played in."

Hermione threw her head back and laughed joyfully. She and Harry have been playing chess at the park while chatting over brunch. It had become a tradition of sorts; every Sunday, provided the weather was kind, they'd meet here and spend time together.

Of course, "tradition" was just a fancy word for things people don't really want to do. They had been seeing each other nearly every day.

"Well, I've just beaten you about seven times in a row just now," she giggled, rubbing the corner of her mouth with a napkin. "Don't you get tired of it?"

"Not really," Harry shrugged, smiling at her. "I learn a lot playing against you. And I don't normally have fun playing chess either."

Hermione was flattered. Her complexion must've revealed it because Harry reached over and took her hand, squeezing it softly. He did that a lot, not that she minded.

"Well, you're definitely getting better each time. You've been able to go for almost sixty turns now," she commended.

Harry laughed her praise off. "It's because you're a great teacher. So when are you going to start competing again?"

And just like that, the moment was killed. Hermione pulled her hand back and practically retreated into herself at the idea. She stood abruptly and gathered their scraps of food, dumping it into a nearby trash bin.

"I'm not ready, Harry…" She said softly after sitting back down. "I don't want to go through that again."

"I understand, but you'll never know until you actually put yourself out there again."

She remained silent, lost in thought as she pondered his words and the ramifications if she did compete again. A few months ago, she felt so _worthless_. There was this immense weight on her shoulders that caused her to become closed off from everyone. The soul crushing loneliness plagued her but she couldn't bring herself to talk to anyone—not to her parents, family, Ron, or any of her other friends.

It had taken her an inordinate amount of time to start interacting with others again, preferring to stay holed up in her apartment like some kind of hermit. She didn't know if she could handle going through that again.

Then a thought crossed her mind.

Hermione looked at the man in front of her and a small sense of hope filled her. These last few weeks with Harry had been the most alive she'd felt in a long time. She didn't think she would ever enjoy chess again but he proved her wrong.

She couldn't help but smile when he gave her an encouraging look. Her mind was made up.

"I'll do it," Hermione told him. But before he could celebrate she continued. "But only under one condition."

Harry didn't falter. "Name it."

"You have to be there with me," Hermione said, gracing him with a beautiful smile.

Harry scoffed, incredulous. "You act like I would have it any other way."

◆ ◆ ◆

Following Harry's advice, Hermione had entered the competitive scene once more, much to the pleasure of the tournament regulators. Hermione Granger was one of their biggest competitors.

She had started off with a local tournament at a high school in Yorkshire. Much to her surprise, she had won it without a hitch. With the win fueling her, she entered larger tournaments and came out victorious each time. It was just like before and she couldn't be more thrilled.

Except… it wasn't _exactly_ like before.

It was much better. This time she had Harry with her. He was always there front and center among the spectators, cheering her on every match. And whenever she checkmated her opponent, he was always the one clapping the loudest and occasionally whistling, much to the annoyance of many. His support meant everything to her.

After the first two or three years of her career, her parents had stopped attending her matches. If they weren't within driving distance, Ron didn't attend them either. Before, she was always alone.

But now, she had Harry.

Harry had quickly become her closest and most supportive friend, filling her with immense joy and gratitude whenever she saw the large smile on his face after each one of her matches. She didn't know how to tell him that his congratulatory smile and hug were one of her biggest, if not _the_ biggest, motivating factor. It was easily more satisfying than the actual rewards.

However, today, all she felt was trepidation and fear.

In her first major tournament back, she had made it all the way to the final round without a problem. That was until she found out who her next opponent would be.

It was the man who defeated her all those months ago.

As soon as she saw his name in the bracket, her confidence had faded like a flickering candle. Shikamaru Nara was the highest rated player in all of Japan. Hermione had done a lot of research on him since their first match. An interview had informed her that he was a Japanese prodigy who grew up playing Shogi so traditional chess was a fluid transition for him.

His skills had not dulled a bit over the past few months. She watched as he cleaned out all of his opponents with relative ease, disregarding that she had done exactly the same.

Hermione was sitting in the hotel lobby waiting for her match to start. As the minutes ticked by, her anxiety worsened. Her mind showed her flashes of herself from months ago along with horrible scenarios of what would happen if she lost again.

"Hermione."

Her head snapped up and she saw Harry standing in front of her with a small smile on his face. He was holding two steaming cups of coffee.

He sat down and held one out to her. "Here, drink up."

Hermione accepted the drink with a gracious smile. "You know I normally don't have caffeine before a match."

"Normal's boring," He said, shrugging. "Besides, you need all the energy you can get with this guy."

"Thanks," she replied dryly and took a sip of her beverage.

"I have something to tell you…" Harry started.

"What's that?"

"I'm not entirely sure how I should say it exactly, but—"

Harry was keen on continuing but he was rudely interrupted by a phone call, signaling the start of her match.

A small sense of relief flooded him. "Don't worry it can wait."

Hermione had a shortness of breath when she stood up. But she mustered through it and headed towards the venue. Harry walked beside her, taking in the familiarity of the setting when he realized Hermione was no longer next to him.

"What the hell," he muttered as he looked around for her mane of bushy brown hair.

"She went that way," a new voice said.

Harry turned around and saw a figure with tied up spiky, dark hair and lazy, hooded eyes pointing somewhere behind him.

Harry shot him a quick grin before running off. "Thanks, Shika."

The man stood, bewildered, because a stranger had called him a nickname he had heard from only one other person. A person he did not know the face of.

 _Shika_ , he thought, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. _So you're here… interesting._

◆ ◆ ◆

Hermione was insanely nervous and panicking. She berated herself for feeling this way but couldn't stop pacing in the women's restroom. Thankfully, she had enough sense to make sure no one else was inside.

She didn't hear the door open and was startled when she saw Harry standing in front of her.

He greeted her with a soft smile. "Hey."

"You're not supposed to be in here," she quipped and continued pacing.

"I get that a lot," he joked, causing her to laugh a little. "Look, I know you're nervous and it's okay to be, but you can do this, Hermione."

She tugged on the ends of her hair. "It isn't that easy, Harry. I've studied his patterns in previous games and they're all so—"

"Hermione."

"His last loss was almost three _years_ ago. Can you believe—"

"Hermione."

"And it was Hallow who beat him. Hallow is like a legend, as much as I hate to sound like—"

"Hermione."

"I don't want to be in the same position as last time. And, and—"

" _Hermione_ ," Harry pressed, his tone resolute. Harry took her hands and clutched onto them, causing her to remain rooted. "You're going to beat him."

She glanced up and shot him a disbelieving look. "How can you be so sure?"

"You beat me before and I'm something of a chess champion myself," he said, making her scoff and shake her head.

"This is serious, Harry."

"I believe in you," he told her. "I know you can do it."

Hermione looked up at him and just then realized how close he actually was. His eyes bore into hers and she felt herself swallow when she saw them flicker down.

"You talk too much," he murmured.

Harry reached up and cupped her cheek, pulling her towards him and kissing her very gently. He lingered there for a long moment, reveling in the softness of her lips. The kiss became hard and passionate and it made her completely forget about everything else around her. She lost herself in the moment as she kissed him back with equal vigor, reciprocating each of his movements.

When they broke the kiss, they're both breathing heavily and staring at each other. Hermione's eyes were wide and Harry's were slightly narrowed and dazed as they took each other in.

"I've been waiting a long time for you to do that," Hermione confessed, looking up at him.

"Me too," Harry whispered and kissed her again.

◆ ◆ ◆

The imposing brick wall that stood in front of her had turned into clay, and with one fell swoop, she had shattered it out of existence. A bright light shone down and parted way, illuminating the path before her. She walked down it in stride.

A wild fire burned within her. Now feeling more confident, Hermione walked back out to the center stage with a spring in her step. She couldn't help but smile a little when she saw her opponent, Shikamaru, staring up at the ceiling with an indolent, bored look on his face.

As she approached, Shikamaru's eyes flitted to her and he watched her movements with disguised wariness. He could tell there was something different about her from last time. For one, she had a smile on her face. Was that also a blush on her cheeks? The nervous wreck he had seen running off was nowhere in sight.

"Hello," she greeted, sitting down in front of him.

Shikamaru nodded at her and sat up straight. "You've sorted everything out I assume?"

Hermione gave a short laugh and nodded, blushing a little. "Yes, thank you. Ready to start?"

"Yeah," he said, making his first move and starting her clock.

It was Hermione's toughest match yet, as expected. Shikamaru made calculated moves as if he had played the exact same scenario in his mind before. She wouldn't be surprised if he had.

But so had she. She predicted his next move perfectly, trading their pieces advantageously. She captured his bishop which left him with few visible options.

"What a drag," he muttered, rubbing his face as he gazed at the board.

Hermione was about to smirk but stopped when she saw him shift in his seat. Shikamaru sat cross-legged on top of his chair, closed his eyes, and cupped his fingers, pressing them together. He sat like that for the next two minutes, undoubtedly devising multiple strategies and picking the most effective.

He had done this the first time they played too and it unnerved her. It was a strange position but it seemed to work because when he continued playing, it was like he was completely a different person.

Shikamaru's eyes snapped open and there was a clear distinction in his visage. Though still lazy, there was more intensity in them as he moved his next piece. Within the next six moves, he had gotten himself out of his trap and was now on the offensive.

After a particular exchange of moves, Hermione went still. Shikamaru had put her in a difficult position and she began to internally panic, trying desperately for it not to show on her face. She bit the inside of her cheek and pondered her next play.

 _I will NOT lose to him again,_ she told herself.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Harry standing in the front row of the spectators with an intense look on his face as he studied them playing. Noticing her looking at him, he flashed her a grin and two thumbs up at her. Hermione smiled as her heartbeat began to slow and she immediately felt calmer.

She turned back to the board and gazed into Shikamaru's eyes. He stared back at her with that same bored expression and they resumed play, but his eyes widened after her next sequence of moves.

"Vladimirov's Thunderbolt," Shikamaru whispered under his breath, staring at the board in disbelief.

 _Not only did she not recapture the queen, but she also placed her bishop on an undefended square, yet it perfectly cut off my king… ingenious,_ he thought in awe.

Hermione stared at him with a neutral expression but her eyes revealed a spark of excitement. He closed his eyes and smirked to himself. _She's improved so much since last time,_ was his last thought before he flicked his king down and slumped back against his chair.

Hermione had won.

While they shook hands, the crowd was silent for a moment, but it was swiftly interrupted by a piercing whistle followed by thunderous claps. Shikamaru's gaze traveled to the source and saw the same tall man with black hair from earlier smiling widely at Hermione. Shikamaru watched as he brazenly rushed up to Hermione and pulled her into a tight embrace.

 _So that's why,_ Shikamaru thought, chuckling slightly. _I wonder if she knows who he actually is._

He got up and slipped out of the venue before any reporters could harass him. He lit a cigarette and took a deep drag and exhaled the smoke into the air, watching it disappear with the breeze.

"How will you do against _him_?" Shikamaru muttered thoughtfully.

◆ ◆ ◆

"This really isn't necessary, Harry," Hermione complained, staring in front of her.

Harry had brought her to a ridiculously fancy restaurant to celebrate her victory against Shikamaru.

"Nonsense, it's not every day you beat someone like Shikamaru Nara," he said. "Besides, we wouldn't want to waste our reservation."

"Honestly, Harry…"

He put his hands on her shoulders and directed her forward, startling the receptionist with their entrance. They followed the woman to their table, admiring the decor under the dim lighting of the restaurant. It was an elegant and intimate setting.

"A waiter will be with you shortly," she said, before walking off.

Hermione walked over to the other side of the table but Harry beat her there, pulling out her chair for her. The gesture made her smile softly as she sat down.

"Ever the gentleman."

"You know me, I ooze chivalry," he said jokingly, throwing a smirk at her.

They fell into a fit of laughter, drawing annoyed looks from the other customers. But they were in their own little world right now, paying no attention to anyone besides the other. It had taken the waiter a few polite tries for them to notice his presence.

Hours passed but it felt like minutes. They were both leaning over the table and she could smell his cologne. It reminded her of a forest, woody and aromatic.

There wasn't a single lull in their conversations until Harry asked one particular question.

"Hermione… I was wondering if you would like to be my girlfriend?"

There was a pause followed by a ringing silence. They both looked at each other with neutral expressions, trying to gauge the other's thoughts. Hermione gave in first; her lips twitched before she burst out laughing, nearly choking on her dessert.

"Wha—why are you laughing?" Harry asked, becoming defensive.

Hermione calmed down slightly, dabbing the corner of her eye with a napkin and catching her breath. "Well, what did you think I was, you silly man?"

Harry laughed a little but was caught off guard when she pulled him in for a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Untold Harmony for going over this! 💙

It had been almost six months since her victory against Shikamaru and since then she had won every tournament she competed in. The last major tournament of the year had concluded last month. All that was left was the World Championship of 2021. It was set to take place in New York City in two months' time, giving her hardly any opportunity to prepare.

Hermione was one of the eight competitors chosen around the world to participate, qualifying as the highest average rated player. The winner amongst the candidates would be given the chance to challenge the reigning World Chess Champion, Hallow himself.

But that was at the back of her mind. She was currently wound up and nervous about something else a bit more pressing.

Hermione glanced to her left and smiled slightly as she watched Harry, _her boyfriend,_ vigorously brushing his teeth, surprised he hadn't drawn blood yet. They were both in their underwear getting ready for bed. Harry had been living with her in her loft most days, not that she had any issue with that.

"Harry," Hermione started.

"Huh?" He asked, looking at her with his lips covered in toothpaste.

She suppressed a smile at the adorable sight. "My next tournament is in New York…"

"Yeah, that's the Championship of the World or something, right?"

"World Championship," Hermione corrected, laughing. "And I was wondering if you would like to… come with me? I completely understand if you don't want to. I mean, it _is_ very far away, and it would be rather troublesome—"

Harry cut her off with a kiss. Her words fell short and she wrapped her arms around his neck, enjoying the feeling. But that's when she realized the toothpaste was still on his mouth.

"Harry!" Hermione complained, wiping her mouth while he fell into a fit of laughter. "That's disgusting!"

Her mock rage crumpled and she soon laughed along with him. When Harry had calmed down a little, he snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her close, effectively making her fall silent.

His brows knitted and he looked at her with an affronted expression. "Did you seriously think I wouldn't be going with you?"

She laughed but let out a relieved sigh. With Harry by her side, she felt infinitely more confident in her abilities.

"Besides, I'm from New York. I can't wait to introduce you to my parents."

Hermione nodded happily, but her eyes widened when she fully registered his words.

"Your _parents_?!"

"My mom's going to love you. You two both love those old, boring books, and you're pretty easy on the eyes—very much out of my league."

"Your parents?" She repeated, not hearing anything he just said.

"Mhm," Harry hummed, nipping at her earlobe. "Don't worry they'll love you. I know I do."

Hermione felt her heart rise and get caught in her throat. Her hands went up and around his neck as she pulled him down and pressed her lips to his. It was dangerous how much she loved him.

Harry responded immediately. His arms wounded her waist and pulled her off her feet while she deepened the kiss. Hermione mentally sighed, hoping her feelings would convey. She tangled her fingers in his messy hair while her legs went around his waist.

Hermione felt him walking with her firmly attached to him as the two kissed furiously. She smiled and her desire for him rose as she felt his excitement growing against her thigh. Harry walked them to her bedroom and set her down, pinning her against the wall and losing themselves in the passion of the moment.

She heard him kick open the door and something burned in her. She fisted the front of his shirt and pulled him into the room. Quickly shoved him onto the bed and kicked the door shut behind her.

The last view from the entrance was Hermione pulling off her shirt as she stepped toward Harry, who sat on the bed awaiting her with an eager grin.

◆ ◆ ◆

"I can't believe a cab cost that much," Hermione said, tugging her luggage behind her.

Harry laughed as he walked beside her. "That's New York cabs for you. It's even more expensive since we came from the airport. Those guys love to scam."

"Why did you ask him to drop us off at this park, though?"

"Oh—uh, I thought we could walk a little, stretch our legs, since we've been sitting in a plane for so long," he lied.

She seemed to buy it though because she didn't question it any further. Harry let out a silent sigh of relief before reaching out and grabbing her hand. Hermione smiled and interlocked their fingers as they pulled their luggage behind them.

"When are Gerard and Helena coming by the way?" Harry asked.

She hummed thoughtfully. "Probably the day of the final match. My dad isn't too fond of traveling, especially not internationally so they only come to my most important tournaments."

Harry made a sound that he understood and they continued walking in the same direction. The scenery around them was unexpected for Hermione. She didn't see the dazzling neon lights or giant billboards or the concrete jungle where dreams were made of. Instead, they were in a suburban area surrounded by greenery.

"Where exactly are we, Harry?"

"Long Island," he responded. "My parents don't really like the city life."

They walked for a little while longer until they reached a property perimetered by black metal gates and marble walls. There was an enormous house, if it could be called that, in the center of the vicinity with large red oak trees scattered around the lawn. There was even a marble fountain.

Hermione took in the sight before them with an awed expression. "This is your house? What are you, a millionaire or something?"

Harry scoffed and shook his head slightly with a small smile on his face. "My dad comes from old money."

Technically, it wasn't a lie, but it wasn't an answer to her question either. The familiar prickling of guilt ate at him. He hated lying to her but wasn't sure how to reveal his secret. It was long overdue, he realized.

"Come on, let's go in. I need to take a shower," Harry said, tugging her arm.

They walked to the front entrance but the door opened before Harry could even knock. He then promptly had the wind knocked out of him.

Hermione looked on with a fond smile as a woman with thick, dark red hair barrelled into Harry, hugging the daylights out of him. She was very beautiful, Hermione noted. Behind the woman stood a tall man with the same messy black hair and facial attributes as Harry. It was clear where he got his looks from.

"I've missed you so much, Harry," the woman mumbled before pulling back and holding Harry at arm's length so she could get a good look at her son. "A whole year away? Are you kidding me? Who do you think you—"

She stopped her tirade when she noticed Hermione standing behind her son, chuckling at her boyfriend's predicament. The brunette immediately stopped, trying not to shudder under the red haired woman's gaze. She had the same bright green eyes as Harry.

"Ease up on the poor girl, dear," James said, trying not to laugh. "Welcome back, son."

Harry wrapped his arms around his father, clapping him on the back. "Hey, dad."

Throughout their entire encounter, Harry's mother was still scrutinizing Hermione until her face broke out into a beautiful smile. Hermione had earned Lily's approval. She stepped forward and gathered Hermione in a hug equally as ferocious as the one she gave Harry.

"It's nice to meet you, Hermione."

◆ ◆ ◆

Harry walked into the living room and saw that his mother was there reading a book. Lily looked up and smiled at him, and he returned it before lazily flopping down onto the couch beside her. He laid his head on her shoulder making Lily smile.

"Where's dad?"

"He went out to meet up with Sirius and Remus," she replied, running her fingers through his hair. "Where's Hermione?"

"She wants to study her chess books," Harry said disappointedly.

He loved playing chess with her. He loved watching her eyebrows furrow when she was deep in thought and he loved seeing the purse of her lips and the glow in her eyes when she won. It was beautiful. _She_ was beautiful.

Lily laughed at her son's dejected expression. "I remember when you used to lock yourself in your room all day, reading those books, too."

He chuckled at the memory. "Good times."

But then he went silent and stared off at a painting on the wall. He wanted to be there with her, helping her prepare.

"You like this girl," Lily stated. It wasn't a question, simply a fact. "A lot."

"I do," he agreed, smiling slightly.

"Harry!" She exclaimed enthusiastically, beaming at him.

"What?"

"When was the last time you said that about a girl?" She pressed on, moving closer to him. Lily was now nearly sitting on him but didn't notice because of how excited she was.

"Five years and—"

"Stop. That was rhetorical," she sighed exasperatedly, shaking her head. "I'm happy for you, Harry. You've never brought a girl home before."

"Not that you know of," Harry said, smirking slightly.

Lily rolled her eyes playfully. "So what are you going to do about you-know-who?"

"Voldemort?" He joked, deflecting.

His mother raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

"The villain in the Humphrey Patterson books. I still can't believe you haven't read them yet," he shook his head, disappointed.

" _Anyway_ ," she deadpanned, rolling her eyes. "I'm talking about _Hallow_. When are you going to tell her? Do you know how annoying it was to hide all of your trophies?"

He rolled his eyes at her statement but became lost in thought. They had been dating for a while now. And he knew the longer he put it off, the more betrayed and angry Hermione would be when she found out. But… he just couldn't bring himself to tell her. He didn't even know how he would attempt to do so.

"I dunno," he sighed exhaustedly. He ran a hand through his hair and glanced back towards the hallway, making sure Hermione didn't walk in. "I'm not sure how I should bring it up."

Harry chewed on his lip, lost in thought.

"I'm sure she'll understand," Lily reassured, squeezing his hand softly. "And for the record, I really like her. She's good for you."

That caused a small smile to tug at his lips. "Thanks, mom."

◆ ◆ ◆

There were still a few minutes to dawn when Hermione slowly opened her eyes.

She smiled feeling the strong arm tightly wrapped around her waist, holding her close. Shivers went down her spine when soft, rhythmic breaths hit the back of her neck causing the hairs there to rise.

She was wide awake now. Today was Christmas Day and apparently, the Potters took it quite seriously. She had overheard Lily gushing to James about what they would do today. In moments like these, she missed her parents deeply. This would be her first Christmas away from them.

There were muffled sounds traveling up from downstairs. _Lily is already up?_ She wondered.

Hermione carefully lifted Harry's arm and replaced herself with a pillow. She watched bemusedly as he clutched onto it with equal vigor. _He's like an overgrown baby_ , she thought, looking at him lovingly.

Adorning a robe, she brushed her teeth and quietly made her way down the stairs. James and Lily were laughing as they cooked breakfast together making Hermione smile. James had smeared some pancake batter on Lily's nose causing her to let out an indignant cry and threateningly wave her whisk at him.

Hermione laughed out loud making her presence known. Harry's parents immediately ceased what they were doing and rushed over to her, wrapping her in a tight, loving hug. She was overwhelmed and teared up a little as she embraced them back.

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart," Lily said, smiling at her as James laid his hand over his wife's shoulder and grinned down at her, repeating the wish.

Embarrassed, Hermione let out a choked laugh. "Merry Christmas."

Together, they worked on breakfast, sharing laughs over James' seemingly endless pool of jokes and Harry's childhood stories.

"I remember when he won his first—"

Lily subtly stepped on James' toe, making him immediately shut his mouth, stifling a cry of pain. She had never been as grateful for the kitchen island as she had been right now. James looked at his wife with an affronted expression but her warning glance caused realization to wash over him.

Hermione tilted her head to the side, confused. "I'm sorry?"

"Ah, nothing. Story for another time. Anyway, we'll finish up here, why don't you wake Harry up?" James said, rubbing the back of his head and laughing slightly.

She leaped at the suggestion and tried not to run as she began making her way back up to their room. Once she was out of earshot, Lily turned to James with an irate expression.

"Have some tact, will you? You're such an idiot."

James had a sheepish expression on his face. "Sorry, love."

Hermione bounded up the stairs with a mischievous smile on her face. She had a Santa hat clutched in one hand as she quietly opened the door. Harry was absolutely adorable when he slept; he had his mouth wide open, drooling slightly, his hair was splayed over his pillow and covering his eyes, and his feet were sticking out from under the rumpled covers.

She smiled at him as she put on the hat and locked the door behind her. She slipped out of her robe, leaving her in just her underwear, and climbed on the bed, straddling herself atop his waist. He didn't seem to notice the added weight and continued sleeping, blissfully unaware.

Hermione stifled a laugh and placed her hands on his chest, leaning over to brush his hair back and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, nose, and then upper lip. Harry smacked his lips together as he blearily opened his eyes.

He took in the sight before him and smiled. "Morning."

She surged forward and captured his lips in a fierce kiss. She couldn't help it. "I _love_ your morning voice."

He chuckled and pulled her closer, sending vibrations through her body. "You know I could get used to waking up like this," he said, smiling at her attire.

His hands started drifting down her back when she smirked and motioned to get off of him. However, his grip was stronger and he began trailing kisses down her neck causing soft breaths to escape her mouth. A hand snaked up her back and unclasped her bra when Hermione forcefully separated from him, laughing as she clutched the front of her bra to her chest.

"Hey!" He complained, pouting.

"I don't think so," she grinned, putting her robe back on. "Come on, get up. It's Christmas!"

"Santa brought me a nice present," he smirked, eyes raking up and down her figure.

Hermione rolled her eyes and laughed as she walked over to the door. "Breakfast is ready. We made your favorite."

"'We?'"

"Yeah, your parents and me. We made—"

She didn't get a chance to finish speaking when Harry bounded over and pulled her in for a far more intense kiss than the last. He poured all of his emotions into it, hoping they would convey. When he pulled away, she was left breathless.

He gazed into her eyes with nothing but love. "I'm so glad you're all getting along. It means a lot to me."

"You all mean a lot to me too," she whispered, reaching up and placing a hand on his face. "Let's go down before I lose my composure and keep you all to myself."

"I wouldn't mind that," he quipped, following her downstairs.

They sat around the dining table, enjoying the large breakfast with smiles going around the table. Harry and James both had loaded more than they could eat onto their plates making Hermione and Lily exchange a look of exasperation. When they were called out on it, both father and son simultaneously looked up with their mustaches coated with whipped cream, causing everyone around the table to share a laugh.

 _I could get used to this_ , Hermione thought, stopping mid chew to gaze over at her boyfriend and then around the table.

The Potters filled the void she felt since the start of the day. She had called her parents before breakfast and her heart ached, hearing their saddened voices. She would miss all the traditions they shared every year, but a saving grace was that she'd see them soon enough.

As she went to return her attention back to her food, Lily caught her eye and offered her a small smile, seemingly understanding the turmoil she felt. Hermione returned the smile genuinely and lifted another forkful of pancakes into her mouth.

"Okay, why don't I get started on some hot chocolate? You all head to the living room and we can start opening presents," Lily said, heading into the kitchen.

"I'll help," James volunteered, following his wife.

The sound of laughter soon came from their general direction, making Hermione smile while Harry rolled his eyes. Their laughter was then abruptly cut short.

" _Okay_ ," Harry drawled, quickly standing up and tugging Hermione along with him. "Let's go before we hear more than we need to."

James had purchased the biggest, most extravagant tree he could find. The four of them had nearly toppled it countless times before finally setting it up correctly and decorating it to their liking. And seeing James climb atop Harry's shoulders to place the star on top was quite the sight.

James and Lily soon entered carrying a tray of the hot beverage, placing them on the table as Harry got up to deliver all the presents under the tree to their recipients. Hermione was stunned to see the sheer amount of presents that she ended up receiving and was immediately berated by all three Potters when she voiced her complaints.

Harry burst out laughing when he opened his present from Hermione. It was a first edition copy of _Chess for Dummies_ by James Eade. It looked to be in pristine condition, which was surprising considering it came out over twenty years prior. When they had calmed down, Hermione handed him his real present.

"Hermione," Harry exclaimed, surprised, staring down at the expensive looking silver watch in his hand. "This is way too much."

"Shut up," she smiled, sitting down on the arm of the couch he was sitting on. "This is nothing."

She took his hand and clipped the latch to his wrist while he stared at her with a look of adoration on his face. While Harry's parents were preoccupied opening their presents, he quietly ushered Hermione out to the front patio to give him her gift.

The crisp morning air kissed her skin as soon as they stepped outside making her tug her robe closer to her body. Harry on the other hand was completely fine being out there with just a T-shirt and shorts.

"Couldn't we have done this inside?" She complained.

"Oh come on, you're from the UK, you should be used to the cold," he said, smirking.

She harrumphed but quietened when he pulled out a thin, rectangular black box and handed it out to her. She looked up at him questioningly, but at his dramatic gesturing, she rolled her eyes and opened it.

"Oh my god…" Hermione breathed out.

It was a necklace.

She delicately lifted it between her fingers, admiring it. It was an infinity pendant made of white gold with a swirl of diamonds strung through with a silver chain. The rays from the morning sun reflected off the gems making the necklace sparkle in her hand.

"Harry, I can't accept this," she protested, giving it back to him. "I don't want you spending this much money on me.

Harry rolled his eyes, a small smile on his face. "Shut up," he replied, mockingly repeating her earlier words.

He turned her around and moved her mass of curly hair out of the way, clasping the chain around her neck. Once it was on, he turned her once more towards the glass door behind them so she could see her reflection.

Harry wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder, watching as Hermione's hand went up to touch the pendant resting on her chest.

A surge of emotion rose in her and a few tears sprung to her eyes as she thought about what the pendant symbolized.

_Forever._

She quickly turned her head and pressed a loving kiss to his lips. He responded tenderly and with increasing urgency, absently pulling her closer as her fingers went through the tendrils of his hair.

He pulled away and their breaths mingled, visible in the brisk weather. But the cold didn't bother them anymore.

"Merry Christmas, Hermione," he murmured, his thumb gently tracing her jaw.

"Merry Christmas, Harry."

◆ ◆ ◆

Hermione loved the feeling of the warm sunlight that hit her face early in the morning. Harry's fingers running through her hair only added to her pleasure. She listened to his steady heartbeat as her head rose and fell with his rhythmic breathing. It was the best she'd ever slept.

"I never thought my life would turn out like this," Hermione said. "I don't think I'll ever get used to this."

"Get used to what?" Harry asked, tightening his hold on her but keeping his eyes closed.

"Waking up next to you every morning," she replied, disbelief in her voice.

Hermione stared up at his relaxed face, the golden light illuminating his hair and beard and softening his features. He sleepily opened his eyes, feeling her stare, and smiled down at her; his green eyes were gleaming from the light.

Harry's fingers froze in their ministrations. "Why is that hard to believe?"

Hermione lifted her head off his chest and shot him an annoyed look. She bumped her head against his hand making Harry chuckle and continue sifting his fingers through her hair.

She sighed in contentment when Harry's fingers shifted to her back, running soft trails up and down her naked torso. She couldn't even begin to fight the smile that broke out on her face as she thought about how much her life had changed in a single year.

She had been made to see that chess was her primary focus in life. But now, she had so much more.

"Why is that hard to believe, Hermione?" Harry asked again, interrupting her train of thought.

Hermione stayed silent, biting her lip for a few moments before answering. "I thought I would ride out my chess career for as long as I could and then die as an old maid with seven cats or something. But never in my wildest dreams would I have thought I would meet someone as wonderful as you."

Harry was wide awake now. The honesty in her voice ate at him, causing him to sit up and pay his full attention. It was like someone was dragging a hot knife across his chest.

He reached up and held her face in his hands, lightly caressing her cheeks with his thumbs. "You know it goes both ways, right?"

"Of course—"

"You're not hearing me, Hermione," he said, before pulling her in for a sweet kiss.

Their lips caressed the other's and a calming silence fell upon them. After a moment, Hermione pulled back and let her forehead rest against his.

Harry pressed another soft kiss to her lips. "I never thought I'd meet someone like you either. This past year has been the happiest I've ever been."

"Oh, Harry…" She breathed.

"You're amazing, Hermione," Harry said, brushing a stray curl around her ear.

Hermione let out a choked laugh, a few tears springing in her eyes. "You're pretty great too."

"And you know you always have me right? I'll always be here for you."

"Good, I spent too long trying to make you good at chess," she said with a wry smile, enjoying watching his face contort before he started laughing.

"Very funny."

"I love you, Harry."

Harry would never get tired of her saying that and he felt invigorated every time the words reached his ears. He felt a rush of lightheadedness as short flashes of their time together went through his mind. Now, in hindsight, he could see the two of them falling for each other, little by little. But it's quite difficult to notice that someone was falling in love with you, especially when you were falling too.

Harry wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to his chest. He pressed his lips to hers in a sweet and tender kiss.

"I love you too, Hermione. So, so much."

◆ ◆ ◆

The sound of the television running followed by peals of laughter drifted upstairs making Harry smile. Hermione was currently watching a movie with his parents in the living room.

He had gone up having heard his phone ringing. As soon as he answered the call, his ear was nearly blown out by the loud voice of his best friend.

"Harry!"

"Hey, Happy New Year's, Luna!" He said brightly.

"So only holidays warrant a call from you?" Luna asked in mock anger.

Harry laughed, flopping down onto his bed. "You called me, you weirdo."

"That's beside the point, young man!"

"You're only _two_ years older—"

"You barely ever call or text me anymore," she pouted. "I thought we were closer than that."

"Sorry, sorry," he acquiesced. "I've just been… busy, I guess."

"Oh, yeah? I'm sure you're having loads of fun."

He laughed sheepishly, feeling bad. "You should come out here sometime, Lulu. I miss you."

"I wish I could, but I ran into some unexpected complications," she said but sounded quite jubilant.

"What happened? Is everything okay?"

A muffled sound came from her background, making him furrow his brows and sit up.

"What was that?"

"Oh, Ron is here—hey, he's walking over. Here let me FaceTime you—"

He pressed the green button to accept the call and Luna's smiling face lit up his phone screen. Her blonde hair was tied up in a messy bun and a few loose strands framed her face, coming down to her chin in ringlets. And her eyes were positively glowing, which made Harry relax.

"Hey," he said, smiling brightly back at her.

Before Luna could reply, a mop of flaming red hair pressed against her head, pushing her out of frame and revealing Ron's grinning expression.

"Hiya, Harry," he greeted cheerfully. "What's up with—"

Before he could finish that thought, Luna pushed his face away with one hand, laughing as she smothered his protests. Their video was currently an indecipherable blur of all sorts of colors.

Harry couldn't help but smile seeing his oldest friend so happy. Luna was undoubtedly the kindest person he knew, but she's had horrible luck in relationships. She was uncommonly beautiful and extremely smart, but she was far too trusting, which led her to be taken advantage of on multiple occasions.

He had seen the heartache she'd suffered firsthand and felt powerless in those situations. All he could do was be by her side, but it never felt like it was enough. But now, she had Ron. And he seemed to be good for her.

"You guys are in a good mood," Harry commented, drawing their attention back to him.

"Yes! We certainly are!" Ron said in a sing-song voice.

Harry laid down and stared up at his phone. "What's the occasion?"

"We're pregnant!" He shouted.

" _What_?!" Harry exclaimed, nearly dropping his phone as he shot up into a sitting position.

"Technically, _I'm_ pregnant," she said, rolling her eyes but couldn't keep the smile off her face. "I'm six weeks along."

"What?" Harry repeated. "What the—how?!"

Luna laughed joyfully, taking immense pleasure in seeing her friend's reaction. "You want me to explain the process to you?"

"No, I'm quite good at the process…" He said breathily, trying to wrap his head around what he had just heard. "Wow… that was unexpected."

"Came as quite a shock for us too," Ron said, grinning.

Harry chuckled. "I'll bet. But hey, congratulations! I'm really happy for you guys."

"Thanks, Harry," Luna said softly.

"Yeah, thanks, mate," Ron added.

"So…" Harry grinned conspiringly. "Is there talk of a wedding anytime soon, or…"

"We might have discussed it," she admitted, smiling. "But we're taking things one step at a time. You're gonna be a great maid of honor someday, Harry."

"Thanks, that's always been my dream," he scoffed before training his eyes to the left of the screen. "Don't mess anything up, Ron," he warned, trying to contain a smile. "Or I'm gonna kick your ass when I come back."

The redhead grinned good naturedly, wrapping one arm around Luna's shoulders. "I'd probably let you kick my ass."

" _Anyway_ ," Luna cut in. "I'm not going to be traveling anytime soon so we can't make it to your match against Hermi—"

"Luna!" He protested urgently.

"What? We both know Hermione will end playing against you."

A strange noise sounded from the back of his throat and panic began to enter his green eyes. He couldn't even subtly gesture to Ron since they were talking over a six inch screen.

"Oh yeah, the tournament starts in a couple of days, right? I hope Hermione kicks your ass," Ron told him nonchalantly.

Harry was taken aback. "You know?"

"What? That you're the big, bad 'Hallow'?" He asked, making air quotes with his fingers when he said the name of his alias. "Of course I know. It was obvious from the start—"

"Ignore him," Luna interrupted. "I told him a little while ago."

Harry let out a groan and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "So, you didn't think to, I dunno, run that by me or something?"

"Please don't tell me you haven't told Hermione yet," she said, raising an eyebrow. At his sheepish look, she stood up and began walking around, an irritated look on her face. "Harry! What in the hell is wrong with you?"

"Good question," he murmured.

"Just tell her, mate," Ron encouraged. "It's better to get it over with as soon as possible. She'll understand. I know she will."

Harry looked up. "You haven't said anything to her, have you?"

"Nope, we haven't spoken in a few days."

That made Harry relax, even if it was only temporarily. He wanted to be the one to tell her. He just had to find the courage to do so.

"Well, you'd better hurry up and tell her and then start making some babies of your own," Luna told him matter-of-factly. "I want our children to be friends."

Harry chuckled and then silenced. "Oh yeah! The baby!" He stood up and ran over to the railing overlooking the living room, bellowing, "Mom! Dad! Hermione! Luna's pregnant!"

"WHAT?!"

◆ ◆ ◆

No one loved chess the way the elderly love chess.

Harry and Hermione were sitting at a table in a park near Harry's house. It was a beautiful day out and it would've been a shame to waste it inside. They were casually talking while playing chess when a crowd gradually began to surround the couple mostly consisting of old men.

But the two remained oblivious, remaining focused on their game. This particular match was different from the rest. Hermione bit her lip as she moved her king a space to the right. Harry was playing extremely aggressive, so much so that he was pushing her on the defensive. He attacked the middle of the board and kept his powerful pieces nestled along the sides ready to strike.

She glanced up to see his eyes narrowed on the board, flicking around as he thought of his moves. A small smile grew on her face seeing him look so focused. Though she was mostly surprised. His plays were exhilarating and merciless. Harry was actually pushing her back and in her eyes, he had never been sexier.

She watched as his eyes softened after his next move and instantly became confused. He had made the complete opposite move from what she was expecting. It had left him open for her to take the win. Their spectators clapped softly before dispersing, having watched the match with brimming excitement.

Hermione reached out and took hold of Harry's hand. "You're getting so much better so quickly, Harry. It's kind of scary actually. And hot."

Harry let out a nervous laugh and hoped she wouldn't ponder it further. _Damn,_ he thought. _I got too into it, but she almost had me there..._

"Wait did you say, 'hot'?"

"And if I did?"

He chuckled. "I think you're the only person in the world who finds chess hot."

"That's because they haven't played against you," she said, looking at him through half lidded eyes.

"As much as I like where this is going, I think we should get going," Harry told her, looking at his phone. "It's already noon."

"My match is in two hours though," Hermione said before adorning an innocent look. "We could possibly go to your room and…"

It took everything in Harry's power to decline. "Yeah, but traffic is unbearable here sometimes. We should get a headstart."

True to his word, traffic was indeed unbearable. They had spent nearly an hour trying to get into the city causing Hermione to be filled with anxiety. She couldn't be late to the most important tournament of her career. But as soon as they had passed through Brooklyn, it was smooth cruising along the Brooklyn Bridge.

" _I said, oooh, I'm blinded by the lights_ _!_ " Harry belted out, incredibly dramatic and offkey.

" _No, I can't sleep until I feel your touch_ _!_ " Hermione followed up.

As the synths faded and the song finished, the couple fell into a fit of laughter. Harry, for all of his talents, was absolutely horrible at singing. Tone deaf would be putting it kindly.

"I love that song," Harry told her. "The Weeknd got robbed by the Grammys."

"I agree—"

Hermione heard a sharp intake of breath from her boyfriend. "I knew I loved you for a reason."

She burst out laughing and took his hand. "Love you too. But focus on the road, I'd rather not die before we even get there."

They had nearly made it across the bridge when Hermione looked up through the windows and made an appraising sound at the stunning skyline that came into view. As it was her first time seeing it in person, Hermione was mesmerized by towering skyscrapers. It was one of those things that photos and movies simply could not do justice.

"This is the real New York, by the way," Harry said, offhandedly, while they were approaching the end of the bridge. "In case you were wondering."

Hermione laughed. "I've heard you New Yorkers were choosy about that."

"You gotta let people know the truth. Look at that view, there's nothing else like it."

◆ ◆ ◆

The tournament took place in the historic Fulton Market building in Lower Manhattan.

Hermione's first match had gone surprisingly fast. For a former world champion, Magnus Carlsen didn't put up much of a challenge against her. She was now waiting for her next match with Harry at her side when an exhibition match was announced.

For entertainment purposes, Hallow would be playing a match against a randomly chosen competitor amongst the eight in the tournament. This would be his first appearance in years. The man was like a ghost, only letting himself be seen for his matches and never again. This would be her first time watching him play in person.

 _Who does this guy think he is? Batman?_ Hermione thought cynically.

Harry on the other hand was thinking about how he would get away from Hermione for a few minutes. He didn't want her to suspect something.

 _Whose bright idea was it to say I would play an earlier match?_ Harry thought to himself. He hated when people made decisions for him.

When the time of his match rolled around, he told her he'd be right back.

"But you'll miss Hallow's match," Hermione protested.

"I really need to use the bathroom," he said, making a show of shifting his weight from one leg to another. "You can tell me about it later."

"All right, but hurry back!"

Hermione made sure she was in the front row in the spectator's seats. She needed to see how he played first hand if she had any hopes of winning against him. Analyzing a player was the most vital skill one could have, as she had said in one of her interviews.

In the next moment, all whispering in the room died down when the entrance door opened and in came the infamous Hallow. He was dressed in a black hoodie and jeans along with his signature plain white mask. True to every article about him, all of his features were hidden but Hermione noticed something: his hands were still bare. Though it didn't tell her anything about him, it gave her one more thing to go about.

He was walking with two others. A tall, darkly handsome man with lustrous black hair and beard along with striking gray eyes. The second man was even taller; he had a pale face with premature lines and light brown hair, tinged with gray. For some reason, the first man seemed familiar to Hermione.

They stood behind Hallow as he shook hands with his opponent, a man by the name of Lelouch Lamperouge. As their match went on, a sinking feeling began to develop in Hermione's stomach.

"How…" she whispered in disbelief.

Hallow never spent more than a few seconds before making each of his moves, no doubt frustrating his opponent to no end. Those small bouts of victory when Lelouch captured one of Hallow's pieces never lasted long. He was currently running his hands through his hair as another one of his key pieces was taken.

And in the next sequence of moves, Lelouch had lost. _Thirty-one moves!_ Hermione thought in shock.

Lelouch stared at the board, flabbergasted, as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. All the chess professionals were astounded as the announcer excitedly reported about Hallow's victory while the man in question was hurriedly moving towards the exit, flanked by his two bodyguards.

Hermione sat rooted to her spot while the other spectators slowly filtered out. _If I somehow make it to the finals, how am I supposed to beat someone like that?_ Hermione thought worriedly.

She snapped out of her thoughts when an arm snaked around her shoulders. She glanced to her right and saw Harry's grinning face.

"Harry," Hermione said. "What took you so long? The match is already over."

"Damn, he's a quick bastard," Harry remarked, smothering a smirk.

Hermione spent the next few minutes recounting the match, going slow for Harry, and expressed her amazement at the spectacle she had just witnessed.

Hours later when all the preliminary matches had finished, it was time for the semi-finals. They had been given the option to play the next day if need be, but both parties had agreed to play it out today.

The game was a difficult one.

Her opponent had a bit of an ego; although she was deserving of it, that didn't take away from how much it annoyed Hermione. She stifled a yawn and templed her fingers as she stared at the board. Her opponent certainly had a good grip on the game but she wasn't able to see the escape routes from the trap Hermione had landed her in.

The moment Hermione checkmated her, the other woman let out a sound of frustration and stomped away, ignoring the handshake that Hermione had offered her. The brown haired girl scoffed in amusement as Harry walked up to her, taking her hand as they walked back to their hotel room.

“Hermione… I have something to tell you,” Harry started nervously. 

She made an ‘mm’ sound. “Can it wait? I really have to use the loo,” she said urgently.

He shook his head in disbelief and smiled. “Yeah, it can wait.”

◆ ◆ ◆

"Nice matches today, love," Harry complimented as he got ready for bed.

Hermione hummed, uncommitted. "Thank you."

She was recreating the match that Hallow had played when he became the world champion. From what she had seen earlier, she needed to bring all that she had against him. The matches she played today had seemed like child's play. The other competitors were definitely around her skill level, or so she had thought.

Each one of them had made moves that she predicted. It was almost like she knew what they would do before they did as if she had seen it before. A sense of pride rose in her when she understood that she had gotten better at the game.

Hermione felt a warm hand cup her cheek, making her instantly lean into the familiar touch. Harry leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead and she glanced up towards him with a radiant expression.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked.

"Oh, nothing. Just prepping for my match tomorrow."

"Uh-huh. So what are you thinking about?"

Hermione let out a breathy laugh and shook her head. "It's just that I'm nervous about tomorrow."

"You have nothing to be nervous about, Hermione. I was looking at some of your earlier matches from a few years ago and even I can tell that you've gotten a lot better."

"Yeah, right," Hermione said disbelievingly.

"No, I'm serious. Just play as you have been and you'll do fine."

"I'm worried, Harry. Hallow is… intimidating, to say the least. You didn't see the way he beat Lelouch today."

"Forget about him. You're a lot better than 'Lelouch' or whatever," Harry told her confidently. "And you underestimate yourself way too much. Besides, Hallow is probably some kind of weirdo who likes cats and anime too much."

Hermione released a peal of laughter and pulled him in for a kiss. Harry always knew how to make her feel better.

◆ ◆ ◆

Hermione stood in front of the mirror getting ready for her match when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Harry lying in bed, watching her with a small smile on his face.

"Morning, sleepyhead," she smiled at him through the mirror. "I was just about to wake you."

"I'm glad I woke up when I did," he smirked, giving her an appreciative nod.

She laughed and shook her head. "Since you're up, can you help me with this zipper?"

Hermione was wearing an elegant black dress that reached below her calves and light makeup, accentuating her beautiful brown eyes. The dress clung to her body and hung from her shoulders, showing off the delicate skin of her neck and collarbones. She opted to leave her hair down, letting it fall behind her. And next to her sat a pair of black heels.

"Of course," he replied eagerly, bounding over to her with intention.

He stood behind her, smiling at her reflection in the mirror as she did the same. His smile turned soft when he spied the necklace he gifted her resting on her chest.

Reaching up, he moved her hair aside and pressed a soft kiss to the back of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. Trailing one hand down the bare skin of her back, he found his way to the zipper and pulled.

" _Up_ , Harry," she deadpanned.

"Right, sorry."

He circled her waist with his arms and rested his chin on her shoulder, taking a few minutes to admire her outfit. He then straightened and kissed her cheek, making her sigh and lean into him further.

"You look amazing," he said softly, nipping her earlobe. He nearly groaned when he felt her shudder against him.

"So do you," she replied in the same tone, turning around to face him.

"I'm not wearing anything, though."

"Exactly."

Moments later, they both made their way down to the venue with a few admitted distractions along the way. The room was massive and brimming with excitement. There were heaps of people in the venue gathered to watch the biggest match of the year.

As Hermione sat in the dim lighting of the playing hall, she was never more grateful for the soundproofed glass surrounding the atrium. Her own thoughts were already loud enough. Hallow was nowhere to be seen; he played white and his clock had already been started just a few seconds prior. If he didn't show in the next two minutes, he would be forfeited.

Hermione looked over to the crowd and saw her parents sitting in the front row, looking around curiously. Next to them, Harry sat with an agitated look on his face as he bounced his knee.

 _Why is he so worked up?_ She thought, smiling slightly. _It's cute he's worried about me._

Meanwhile, Harry was internally sweating bullets. He had made it a strict goal of his to make sure that he was there every one of Hermione's matches ever since she had started competing again. But now he was in a bit of a conundrum.

They had just passed the minute and thirty second mark and Hallow was still a no show. As much as Hermione would like to win, it would be a spit in the face if it happened like this. Hermione bit her lip as the seconds ticked down.

She sighed and motioned to stand up when the door to the room swung open and in came a man wearing a black hoodie. Hermione let out a disbelieving breath as she watched him make his way over to her.

The trepidation inside her rose with every step he took. That impending mask seemed to take over her vision when he stood right in front of her. Hallow stopped and made his first move before even sitting and started her clock.

 _What? A flank opening?_ Hermione thought, incredulously.

"If that was just for time's sake, I don't mind restarting," Hermione offered, motioning to wave the regulator over.

Hallow shook his head. "It's fine."

Behind the mask, Harry prayed he had inflected his voice well enough that she wouldn't recognize it, pushing down the intrusive sting of guilt. He had pushed off revealing his identity for far too long and now it was far too late, he thought.

He sat and kept his head tilted down, staying quiet and staring at the chessboard. Hermione forced a smile on her face and stared into the black holes of Hallow's mask.

She bit her lip but nodded. "Good luck. May the best player win."

Hallow remained silent and inclined his head further, wordlessly returning her wish. Hermione took a breath and started with the Queen's Gambit—a queen's pawn opening. It was something she didn't normally attempt. Hallow ignored his flank, opting to decline with the Albin Countergambit, and with that the match had officially begun.

She didn't know what to expect when meeting Hallow but it certainly wasn't this. The cold, intimidating figure everyone spoke of was nowhere in sight. In his place was a clumsy and somewhat awkward man. Though his chess prowess was not exaggerated in the slightest.

A silence had fallen upon them. The clink of the pieces moving across the board and the scratching of their pencils on their track sheets were the only sounds in the room.

Their match had become like a dance as they tried to get the better of the other. It had become apparent that neither were able to catch the other off guard. Nearly five hours had passed yet neither had secured the upper hand and it was _invigorating_ for both parties. Neither had faced a challenger who pushed them this hard before.

But in the next moment, the tides had turned. _Why would he expose his rook like that? He gains nothing if I capture it,_ Hermione wondered.

She went through with it and took his piece not knowing that she was now well within his trap. Hermione covered her mouth with one hand as she tried to suppress her shock.

 _How could I have missed it?_ She asked herself. This entire time they had been exchanging moves equally as if knowing what the other would do.

Hermione glanced up at him but he was still staring at the board so all that she could see were the shadowed, ominous holes of his mask. She thought he could see what she was planning. She thought he could hear her heart beating and feel how panicked she was.

 _I still have time to get out of it,_ she reminded herself, glancing at her clock.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione took a few seconds to calm down in order to see her possible plays more clearly. All this time she had only been seeing the pieces on the board, but now she had started seeing a lot more than just chess.

For one, she noticed that Hallow was wearing gloves. She recalled his last match and remembered that he kept his hands bare. In fact, in every broadcast she had seen of him, he had played with his hands bare. So why change now?

From all of his previous matches, Hallow had no solid playstyle, preferring to adapt and improvise making him unpredictable. But Hermione had noticed a small familiarity as he made each of his moves. It was small, but it was there.

Before she could ponder it further, she had to make a move; her clock had nearly run out. She cursed internally as she was forced to give up a knight, but it would buy her some time. And it was only more demoralizing when Hallow had made his move instantly, starting her clock once more.

Hermione watched his hand as he pushed his pawn forward and recognition flared inside of her. She had seen some of these plays before, and while this would be normal after so many years playing, there was something unique about the mannerisms in which Hallow moved the pieces.

She recounted his index finger sliding his pawn diagonally when capturing a piece, him picking up her fallen pieces with his middle and ring finger, even the occasional roll of his neck while he was thinking…

And that's when it clicked.

 _It_ hit her like a truck. It was like everything around her had shattered as she came to the realization. She blinked rapidly and her head snapped up to try and get a better look at his eyes. But of course, he kept his head down.

 _Is it actually…?_ She thought, biting her lip.

"Hey," she whispered.

 _Hallow_ looked up and she instantly froze in her seat. Those cold, eerie green eyes she had seen in the _Chess Life_ magazines were nowhere to be seen. In their place were intense yet calm emeralds—the same eyes that she had fallen in love with.

Hermione swallowed the bile that she tasted in her throat and hurriedly made a move, uncaring of the game at the moment. She did a quick scan of her surroundings and sure enough, Harry was nowhere to be seen.

Hermione took a shuddering breath and her voice cut through the silence. "That's you in there, isn't it Harry?"

And just like that, everything around Harry had come crashing down. His widened as he took in her expression. Those big brown eyes that he fell in love with were glassed over with a sheen of tears. But worst of all was the distrust and betrayal on her face; it tore at his heart, making him clench his teeth.

Hallow cursed under his breath and waved a regulator over to them. He scribbled his next move down on a piece of paper, slipping it into an envelope, and handed it to him, adjourning the match. He stood and walked over to the door, turning his head slightly to catch her gaze.

Hermione in turn followed him out of the door and into the elevator. She stood as far as she could from him in the small compartment and fixed the most menacing glare she could muster at him. She heard him sigh and watched with veiled anticipation as he reached up, pulled down his hood, and slowly took off his mask, revealing Harry's face once and for all.

"Hermione," Harry started, looking at her with pleading eyes.

But Hermione would be having none of it. "Don't. I don't want to hear any more of your lies. How could you not tell me?"

"I wanted to tell you! I just couldn't—"

"You couldn't?! This isn't some stupid superhero movie, Harry! This is _real life_!"

"That's not what I'm saying!"

"And the countless games we played—you let me win every time?"

"Not exactly—"

"Do you understand how humiliating that is?!"

"Please just listen to me for a sec…" Harry begged.

Hermione scoffed and crossed her arms. "Go on, then."

Harry sighed as he mulled over his thoughts. "I became 'Hallow' at a local tournament over a decade ago because I was originally self conscious of my picture being taken. But then I saw what it did for me—with the mask on, I was able to play the game I loved without having to worry about anything superfluous."

He was going to continue but paused seeing the shift in emotions in his girlfriend's face. She was turning red and was very clearly gritting her teeth in anger.

Hermione listened to his words carefully, but still wasn't satisfied. "Yes, that's all well and good, but it doesn't explain—"

"I'm getting there," Harry said, running a hand through his hair. "I never expected things to escalate this much, but of course outside parties exaggerated everything. And I can't play comfortably with all these people staring at me so I continued to wear the mask… and just never took it off."

"You still haven't explained why you didn't tell me. I mean honestly, after all this time you couldn't trust me? I've told you things that I've never told anyone—not even my parents. But you… you hid something like this from me? I gave you _a year_ of my life, Harry!" Hermione exploded, emphasizing her frustration by jabbing her finger into his chest.

Harry reached up and took her hands in his. "Believe me, I've wanted to tell you since before we even got together."

"So why didn't you?"

"There's only a handful of people who know about this and they're all…"

"Family?" Hermione asked timidly, her voice cracking.

Harry released a heavy sigh. "Yeah…"

Hermione could deduce the people he was referring to, but it didn't stop her from feeling like she was less. It was as if all that they had been through together was meaningless. At this moment, she wanted to curl up and stay as far away from him as she could.

"Then what am I?" She asked in spite of herself, staring up at him.

Harry hesitated for a second, eyes wandering her face, before smiling softly at her. He cupped her cheek and lovingly caressed the soft skin while she looked at him with tear filled eyes.

There was no one in this world that captured his attention like Hermione Granger. No one made his blood pump like she did. No one beguiled him as much as she did. There was nobody else like her.

But before he could answer, the elevator door dinged and the doors slid open. Harry quickly hid the mask under his sweater and took her hand, walking out of the elevator.

Stopping in front of the exit, he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Tell you what, why don't you go back to the hotel room, and I'll answer that question after we finish our match tomorrow."

◆ ◆ ◆

Hermione had woken up bright and early the next morning. The exhaustion from the day prior caused her to fall asleep the moment her head touched the pillow. Thankfully, her match was in the afternoon, giving her a bit of time to go over the match notations, not that it was her primary focus anymore.

Harry hadn't come back last night and that was probably for the best. The entire time she suppressed her bitterness and made her way back to the venue. But the moment she saw him already sitting there, the mix of feelings she had about him returned full force.

She would never admit it, but the curiosity of what he would say after the match outweighed her lividity at not being answered yesterday.

Harry hadn't slept a wink. He had a plan. Honestly, it was a simple plan. But just like any plan, things always had a chance of going horribly wrong. And it just _couldn't_ go wrong this time.

Hermione sat down across from him with Harry staring directly at her from behind the mask. She looked at him and sighed.

"Let's just focus on the game for now," she whispered.

"Okay," he replied in the same tone before extending his hand to her. "Good luck."

His hands were bare now and a few wisps of his black hair fell over the top of his mask, she noticed. She shook his hand and was going to let go immediately when Harry squeezed and ran his thumb across her knuckles before letting go. That was something he did whenever they held hands.

She bit her lip, noticing the silver watch she gifted him for Christmas proudly on display on his left wrist. Her hand unconsciously went up to clutch her infinity pendant and her vision slowly became dazed as her thoughts drifted, but she quickly shook her head and refocused.

"Play to your full abilities, Harry," she demanded, focusing a glare on him.

Hermione heard him snort. "I have been from the start."

The match began anew and immediately Harry was thrown off balance. She was playing absolutely haphazardly. Each move seemed a bit random and he could only hope it wasn't out of anger.

It became apparent that neither of them were making much headway. But that seemed to be Hermione's plan because, after years of competing, he was now the one on the ropes. She had captured his last bishop and checked him, leaving him with minimal options.

He glanced up and saw the beautiful smirk she'd wear when she was doing well. Despite currently losing, he smiled. No one incited the same feeling of exhilaration like she did when playing the game. And it filled him with a new sense of purpose as he made his next move.

Within the next sequence, she was now the one checked. As they continued playing, a majority of their pieces were now gone. Hermione bit her lip and nearly drew blood when Harry captured her queen.

"Draw?" Harry offered, knowing what her response would be.

She raised an eyebrow. "Keep playing, mister. I'm not done with you yet."

"I hope to hear that in a different context soon," Harry said, smiling slyly, not that she could see it.

Hermione scoffed in annoyance but couldn't stop the blush that swept across her face. She hurriedly moved her king to a more defended square and started his clock. But with her most powerful piece gone, she would be hard pressed to win.

 _I have four pawns, a knight, and my king whereas he has three pawns, a_ _rook_ _, a knight, a queen, and his king,_ she thought, looking at the scattered board.

With how their pieces were positioned, Hermione had limited options; she imagined the potential sequences of moves she could do, but each one ended with an unfavorable ending for her. And with Harry, or Hallow, as an opponent, she couldn't predict any move he'd make as easily as anyone else. She made her next move almost reluctantly, wondering how much longer the game would last.

Harry paused, contemplating his moves. She heard him sigh and lean back into his chair as he stared up at the ceiling, closing his eyes from lights directly overhead. As the last remaining seconds of his turn ticked down, he sat forward and moved his queen up, checking her once more.

She immediately captured his queen as it was the only option she had and he moved a protected pawn up to F7 in return, one space from promotion. _It's over,_ Hermione thought, able to see the next sequence of moves.

She chewed on her cheek in thought before sighing and accepting defeat. As she went to topple her king, a hand stopped her. Hermione looked over at him in confusion but faltered at the intense look in his eyes.

"Harry?"

He took a deep, calming breath. "You asked me yesterday what you were to me…"

"I don't—" she tried to say but gasped.

A hand shot up to her mouth in an attempt to keep from becoming a stuttering mess as Harry slid a sleek, elegant diamond ring down her king piece, keeping his hand hovering over it to hide it from the cameras.

"I wanted to do this in the near future, maybe at a beach somewhere, but you're not one for clichés," he said in a breathy, choked up voice, chuckling nervously. "And I probably would've had a more heartfelt speech prepared. What I'm struggling to say is that you mean… _everything_ to me."

"Oh, Harry…" She breathed out, eyes welling up with tears.

"In this past year, you've made me happier than I've ever been and I want to do the same for you today, tomorrow, and however long you'll have me…

"Hermione Jane Granger… will you marry me?"

Hermione was incapable of words as a steady stream of tears began falling down her cheeks. Harry would never admit to the sound that escaped his mouth when she nodded and picked up the ring, holding it in her palm.

He didn't know what the first thing she'd say would be, but it certainly wasn't—

"Elevator."

As soon as they opened the door, the loud voice of the announcer screaming about Hallow's victory filled their ears. Though, there were more important things on their minds. The imposing figures of Hallow's two bodyguards along with a larger man flanked the newly engaged couple, keeping them away from the reporters.

"Outta the way, you blood sucking mosquitos!"

"Calm down, Sirius," Harry's other bodyguard murmured, trying not to laugh.

They made it to the elevator with the three men blocking anyone from getting close. Despite the annoying circumstances, they had large smiles plastered on their faces.

"Thanks for the help, Sirius, Remus, Perce—nice to see you again by the way," Harry said, out of breath.

"You too man. And it's Doctor Jackson to you, but we'll talk later," Percy replied joyfully, nodding at Hermione. "I better be invited to the wedding."

"I'll have to think about it; I can't have you eating all the cake," Harry joked before pressing the close door button. "Especially if it's blue."

As soon as the elevator doors slid shut, Hermione ripped off his mask and crushed her lips to his in a searing kiss. Her arms snaked around his neck, drawing him impossibly close as he held on to her waist. Moments passed and their kiss became soft and tender before they drew apart, releasing soft pants.

Harry loomed over her, gazing into her eyes with so much passion and intensity. She smiled up at him, loving the feel of his touch and tender caresses, not to mention the look of awe on his face.

"You're beautiful," he murmured.

She smiled slightly before a pensive look appeared on her face. "Harry…"

"Yeah? What's on your mind, love?" He asked, tracing a thumb across her jaw.

"You have to be the one to put this on me," Hermione replied, holding the silver band out to him.

He smiled softly as he delicately held her hand and slid the ring up her finger, admiring it for a moment before turning his attention back to her face.

"I love you," Harry whispered softly, his eyes brimming with tears.

"I love you too," Hermione stuttered out, a watery smile on her face. "But I'm still mad at you. And I want a rematch."

Harry huffed out a small laugh and tightened his grip on her. "Good thing I have the rest of our lives to make up for it."

_Fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope that wasn't too terrible :)


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